Stop talking I can barely hear myself think without all your thoughts crowding them out.
He's speaking through me again, unable to talk I can only listen.
Well I am taking control for a while.

All different people live in one head arguing fighting for control of what's said.
one man for work another for friends
a different for family and so the mind bends.
Moods that control this foul bag of water
squandered of daylight, laid bare on my alter.
They're all separate men, doing the driving, the speaking
a new one jumps up as the last man is weakening.
Some men are good, others aren't so
some are just men with nowhere to go.
Three live with me, a scientist, a poet
a dark one; the mad one, at least the only who'll show it.


A trident of natures locked in one casket,
The trinity of me. However, I mask it.